A Star Wars Christmas Carol
by EsmeAmelia
Summary: COMPLETE. The classic story of A Christmas Carol - but with Star Wars characters playing the parts. Warning: Fourth wall breaking, classic literature parodying, overall craziness, etc.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Yes, I know they don't celebrate Christmas in the SW universe, but I couldn't resist this urge. Think of it like a tongue-in-cheek play or something where the SW characters play the parts in A Christmas Carol, kinda like in The Muppet Christmas Carol (which happens to be one of my favorite holiday movies). Anyway, I don't own Star Wars, of course. I don't own A Christmas Carol either, though that story's in the public domain since Charles Dickens died ages ago. Still, it seemed polite to credit him anyway, even though I'm butchering his story.

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

Chapter 1

Lando was dead, to begin with. Dead as a starship's hatch. Not only merely dead, but ever so sincerely dead. In life, Lando had been business partners with a well-known mean guy whose last name began with an S.

But he wasn't the mean guy you're probably thinking of.

Lando's partner was named . . . Anakin Skywalker.

"What?? You're making _me _the Scrooge character??"

Well, yes Anakin. After all, you have a troubled past, just like Scrooge, you lost your girlfriend just like Scrooge, you get bitter with the world just like Scrooge . . .

"Yeah? Well I'd like to see _Scrooge _in a podrace or a lightsaber fight. That guy probably couldn't even _lift _a lightsaber, yet alone fight with one."

Look, we don't have time to argue, okay? You're Scrooge, deal with it.

"And what will you do if I don't?"

I'll tell everyone that you sleep with a toy Ewok.

"Gah! All right, all right, I'm Scrooge! Bah Hamburg."

It's humbug.

"Whatever."

Anyway, as I was saying, when Lando was alive, he had been partners with an incredibly greedy, selfish person named Anakin Skywalker. Their business firm, set up on the planet Coruscant, would lend out money to people with incredibly high interest rates. Most of the time people couldn't afford to pay the loans back, in which case Anakin and Lando would take away their houses or something valuable like that. They really weren't very nice at all.

"All right, that's enough, they get it."

Well excuse me, Anakin, I'm just trying to narrate here.

"So long as we're talking, I have a question."

All right, but make it quick – it's getting awkward for the narrator to be talking to a character.

"What's a humbug?"

What do you _mean_ "what's a humbug"???

"What _is_ a humbug? If I'm going to play this Scrooge guy I'd like to know what my lines mean."

Uh . . . just a second, let me get a dictionary . . . okay, it says here that a humbug is a fraud, a phony, stuff like that.

"So basically I'm calling Christmas a fraud?"

Yes.

"All right, you can get back to the story now."

Okay, go back to your money counting desk thingy. Now, as I was _saying, _Lando had been dead for seven years, but Anakin never bothered to have his name painted out of the sign outside, since he liked to save money whenever he could. So the sign still said "Skywalker and Calrissian," even though Anakin now worked alone. Well, he didn't work _completely _alone – he still had his awesome, awesome, awesome, _awesome _clerk, Han Solo.

"That would be me!"

Yup, say hi to everyone, Han. Anakin's clerk rocked harder than anyone could possibly imagine, but Anakin was too stupid to realize that and so he treated Han like dirt.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!!"

Uh-oh. Have you been bad, Han? It looks like your wife is calling.

"Yes, I'm calling! What do you mean by casting _Han _as Bob Cratchit??"

Uh . . . well, come on, he was a good choice . . .

"Hey sweetheart, she thinks I'm awesome, what more do you need? Jealous because you'll be playing the small part of _Mrs._ Cratchit?"

"Casting you as a moneylender's assistant is a JOKE. You couldn't handle money if your life depended on it!"

"I could so!"

"Oh _yeah?_ Then how did you get yourself over your head in debt to Jabba the Hutt?"

Hmmm . . . you know Han, she's got a point.

"WHAT??"

"For that matter, who's the breadwinner in _our _house? Me! _I _would be much more qualified for this role."

"You're forgettin' that your gender works against you there, sweetheart!"

Hey come on Han, we're equal-opportunity, and she's brought up some very good points here. Give me an hour or two to analyze them . . . oh wait, we're in front of a live audience. Okay, Leia, Han, you're switching parts.

"WHAT?? You ain't SERIOUS, are ya?"

"You heard her, _honey." _

"But what happened to me bein' awesome??"

Han, I'm sorry, but my decision is final. You'll be the Mrs. Cratchit character. Now go get ready for that role – there's a dress backstage.

"I'm gonna get you for this, _sweetheart._"

"Watch it or you'll sleep on the couch again."

"Grrr . . ."

All right, a slight change in the story. Anakin's clerk was in fact a _woman_, and her name was Leia Organa Solo. While she wasn't quite as awesome as Han, she was still awesome in her own right and she was probably smarter and more responsible than Han.

"I heard that!"

Just ignore Han, everybody. Now where was I? Oh yes, Anakin treated his clerk like dirt. He payed her minimum wage even though she had a husband and a bunch of children to support. He even made her work on Christmas Eve every year. And it's on a Christmas Eve, seven years to the day since Lando's death, when our story begins.

Snow was falling all over Coruscant, which brought bitter cold with it, but most people hardly noticed, for they were getting ready for the biggest day of the year – the celebration of Christmas. There was laughter, singing, and a general sense of merriment all throughout the planet.

That is, all throughout the planet except for one place.

In Anakin Skywalker's office, everything was as dismal as ever. There were no windows, which meant that neither Anakin nor Leia could see the merriment outside. Anakin only had enough light on for them to see their work, and no more. Worst of all, Anakin refused to turn on the heat, which meant that the bitter cold from outside seeped into the office.

"Boss," Leia said after she had been working in the freezing temperature for hours, "can't we turn on the heat?"

"No," Anakin said in his gruff, mean voice. "You know the rules – we don't waste money."

"You'll waste plenty of money if we freeze to death while working," Leia retorted as she blew on her hands. "This is ridiculous."

Anakin looked up and glared at her with his incredibly mean glare. "Mrs. Organa Solo, do I pay you to complain?"

"You hardly _pay _me at all," Leia grumbled, blowing on her hands again. "My parents wanted me to be a politician, but noooo, I had to pick _this _line of work because I didn't want a job where people were always _getting _on me. The irony!"

If it was possible, Anakin gave her an even meaner glare. Oh boy, was he ever mean. Mean, mean, mean. So mean you wouldn't believe it. He wasn't just the meanest of the mean – he was the meanest of the meanest of the meanest of the mean. You're a mean one, Mr. Skywalker, you really are a heel . . .

"All right, all right, we've established that I'm mean, okay?"

Sheesh, Anakin, who's the narrator here?

"Look, can we just get to the part where Nephew Fred comes in? I'm getting bored here, and so is the audience."

Fine, fine. Okay, it was then when they heard a knock on the door. Before Anakin could even get up to answer the door, in burst Anakin's nephew, Luke Skywalker.

"Hey Dad, isn't this neat? I'm your son in real life, but here I'm playing your nephew!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever, I've already got my daughter playing my employee."

Guys, don't get out of character here. As I was saying, Nephew Luke was a fun, happy guy who always looked for the best in everyone, even his incredibly mean uncle, so he paid him constant visits at work. Of course, that might have been simply to annoy him.

"Merry Christmas, Uncle Anakin!" Luke exclaimed as he scampered through the office, dripping melted snow on the floor.

"Christmas?" said Anakin. "Bah Hamburger!"

No, no, NO, Anakin! It's _humbug!_ HUM-BUG!

"Well _excuse _me! Why don't I just say 'Bah Phony' – it's easier for me to remember."

Are you NUTS?? "Bah Phony" doesn't have a good ring.

"So?"

SO, "Bah Humbug" happens to be the most IMPORTANT line in the ENTIRE story. If you change it, you ruin everything!

"Uh, hey, can we get back to the story? I think some people might be clicking the Back button."

Okay Luke, you're right. Well, Luke wasn't phased by his uncle's meanness at all – in fact, his smile grew even wider.

"Christmas a hamburger – uh, I mean humbug?" he chortled. "Surely you don't mean that!"

"Of course I do," said Anakin. "And you'd think that way too if you had any sense in you. It's just a stupid time where everyone acts like little children and spends money they don't have on frivolities. If I could work my will, every idiot who went about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips would be boiled in his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart."

"Wow," said Luke, "that's a nasty thing to say to your own nephew."

But Luke still wasn't flustered, even though his uncle was being so mean to him.

"But I'm still not flustered," said Luke, "even though my uncle is being so mean to me." He extended his hand to Anakin. "Come on, dine with us tomorrow."

He might as well have invited Anakin to walk barefoot on some hot coals with him. Actually, Anakin might have preferred the hot coals to dinner with his nephew. "Dine??" Anakin exclaimed. "DINE?? With you and your pretty little wife who brought you no money when she married you?"

"Yes," said Luke. "So are you coming?"

"Just _why _did you marry her again?" said Anakin.

"Why? Because I fell in love, of course."

Anakin smirked. "That's just plain stupid."

"All right, all right. So are you coming or not?"

"Hmm," said Anakin, "how can I put this politely . . . absolutely not, I wouldn't be caught dead having Christmas dinner with you and your wife."

Finally Luke appeared hurt. "Well fine," he said, "you'd probably ruin the party anyway." He turned around and stomped out of the office, but as he opened the door, he let in a pair of droids. One was a tall, golden-plated protocol droid, and the other was a short, blue and white astro droid.

"Skywalker and Calrissian's, I believe?" the protocol droid said in a proper accented voice as he hobbled up to Anakin. "Do I have the pleasure of addressing Master Skywalker or Master Calrissian?"

"Lando Calrissian has been dead for seven years," Anakin said in a disinterested manner. "Who the heck are you?"

"Oh yes," said the protocol droid, "allow me to introduce myself. I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart, R2-D2."

The astro droid beeped a friendly hello.

"Uh-huh," said Anakin, "and what the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, thank you so much for asking, Master Sykwalker," said 3PO. "We are collecting donations for the poor and homeless. You see sir, there are many beings out there who don't have the common necessities that you humans require. Since this is such a festive season of the year, it seems appropriate that we should contribute something to those less fortunate, don't you agree?"

R2 beeped in agreement.

"So there aren't any workhouses?" said Anakin. "No prisons?"

"Uh, of course there are, Master Skywalker, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Anakin smirked. "Well, from what you said it sounded like something had shut them down."

"Uh, yes, Master Skywalker," said 3PO, "but anyway, what might we put you down for?"

"Nothing."

The R2 unit immediately erupted into a string of angry beeps, probably shouting some very foul words at Anakin in droid language.

"Now now R2," said 3PO, "there's no need to get upset. This gentleman simply means that he wishes to remain anonymous." He turned to face Anakin. "Isn't that right, sir?"

"No," said Anakin, "what I wish is to be left alone. As you said yourself, there are prisons and workhouses – if people are too lazy to get themselves a decent job, they should go there."

"Oh, but Master Skywalker," the protocol droid wailed, "some would rather die!"

"Well if they'd rather die, they'd better do it," said Anakin, "and decrease the surplus population!"

Woo boy, was Anakin ever mean.

Mean, mean, mean.

R2 shouted even more foul words at Anakin in his beeping language, and this time 3PO didn't try to stop him. "Oh dear, oh dear," said 3PO, "please, Master Skywalker, I do hope you will reconsider."

"I won't," said Anakin. "Now would you please go away so I can get back to work."

Leia dug her fingers into her forehead and shook her head.

R2 blew a mechanical raspberry at Anakin before rolling towards the door, still beeping out foul-mouthed insults.

"Oh dear oh dear," 3PO said again, hobbling after his counterpart. "Please R2, do come back, I'm certain he will change his mind if we only talk to him a little while longer."

But R2 had already left the room. After 3PO followed him out, Anakin quickly rose and locked the door, ensuring that they couldn't return.

Did I mention that he was mean?


	2. Chapter 2

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

AN: Thanks for all the reviews!

Chapter 2

Anakin and Leia worked in silence until evening fell and it was time to close up the office. Now as you remember, it was Christmas Eve, which meant that Leia would of course want the day off the next day, but it was hard to get anything from Anakin. As soon as she clocked out, she strode up to her boss's deck, where he was still working, apparently unaware that it was closing time. He also seemed to be unaware of her standing there. It took a good five minutes before she finally cleared her throat and caused him to take notice of her.

"So," he said in his usual mean voice, "I guess you want the day off tomorrow."

"Of course," said Leia. "It's a universal holiday after all."

"Well the universe isn't fair," Anakin grumbled. "They expect me to pay you for no work?"

"Yes!" said Leia, throwing her hand on the desk. "It's the _law. _If you don't give me the day off, I'll report you to the authorities."

Anakin growled. "That's blackmail, you know that?"

"But it's still the law that you give me the day off."

Anakin loudly ground his teeth. "It's a stupid excuse for picking my pocket every year, but unfortunately, since it's a law, I'm required to give you the whole day." He stood up and leaned in close to Leia's face. "But be here even earlier the _next _morning."

They closed up the office, Anakin grumbling the whole time about how unreasonable Leia was for wanting the day off and Leia grumbling the whole time about how unreasonable Anakin was for not wanting to give her the day off. They didn't get along very well at all. In fact, behind Anakin's back, Leia was secretly filling out job applications for other people, but with the economy in such bad shape, no one was hiring.

"Okay, was it really necessary to stick in a joke about your planet's economy?"

Oh come on, Leia. I thought it was funny.

"Well are you trying to imply that I can't get a job even if I fill out a bunch of applications?"

What??

"I mean, even a bad economy, someone with my qualifications should be able to get a job."

Look, you wanted this part, didn't you? So live with whatever implications it may carry.

"I warn you, if this leads to anything at my REAL work . . ."

O-kay, let's just get straight to when Scrooge – I mean Anakin – gets home. Strike the set, we're going to the next scene.

It was well after dark when Anakin parked his speeder at his dismal apartment, which had once belonged to his late business partner, Lando Calrissian. Now as I told you in the previous chapter, Lando had been dead for seven years. That must be remembered, or nothing that follows will seem wondrous.

"Uh hey, was it really necessary to remind them that Lando's dead?"

Yes Anakin, it's called literary emphasis.

"They're not morons, you know. I think they can remember that Lando's dead."

Hey, I just wanted to make sure.

"It was the first freaking line in the story!! How dumb does someone have to be to forget that?"

Aren't you supposed to be going up to your door knocker?

"Yeah . . . that's something else I wanted to talk to you about. Have you ever seen our movies?"

Only about two thousand times. Why?

"Well then you must know that we don't have door knockers in our galaxy."

What?

"I mean, we have doors that _slide_ open – it's impossible to have a door knocker without the door getting stuck halfway open."

Well _you _have a door knocker. That's how the story goes – Scrooge has a door knocker. It's a critical moment in the story.

"So how does that work with a sliding door?"

__

I don't know –

you just have a door knocker! Okay?

"You're narrating this story and you don't even know the mechanics of my door knocker? That's pretty lazy."

AUGH, all right, all right! Um . . . it's a holographic door knocker that through electronic sensors makes a knocking sound when someone waves their hand in front of it, okay?

"That's lame."

Well DEAL with it – we need to get back to the story before people remove it from their Alert lists.

As I was saying, Anakin had just returned home. He was about to unlock his door when he noticed something quite strange about his holographic door knocker. Normally the hologram projected the face of a savage eopie, but now the projection looked like . . .

"Lando??"

The face of Lando Calrissian moaned at Anakin, scaring him so much that he tumbled over backwards, landing smack on his behind. After struggling to his feet, cursing the entire time, he looked at the knocker again, and this time it was back to the regular eopie face.

Anakin sneered, figuring that someone must have tampered with the hologram. "Humdrum."

No Anakin, it's HUMBUG.

"Again, whatever. If you'd just let me say _phony_ it would be much easier for both of us."

Any-way,

Anakin, being a practical man, didn't run back into his speeder and drive as far away as possible. Nope, he just walked right inside his house, though he did make certain to lock the door behind him. However, he locked the door every night, so even that wasn't out of the ordinary.

He changed into his nightclothes, pulling a thick robe over his pajamas, since he didn't like turning on the heat even in the comfort of his own home. Being the pigheaded man he was, he never wanted to spend money unless it absolutely couldn't be avoided.

"Pigheaded? Hey, could you maybe lay off the insults?"

Ignore me, Anakin. This is an important part here.

Anakin sat down in a big chair in front of his bed and began eating his supper of unappetising cold food. Yes, he didn't bother to cook his food either, talk about pigheadedness.

"Grrr . . ."

And he growled at nothing too. Yes siree, he was a big mess.

"I was growling at _you._"

Anyway, Anakin was in the middle of his meal when he heard something disturbing. He heard a bell begin to ring, followed by another bell, then another bell, then another, then another, then another. Soon many bells were ringing at once, giving a noise so deafening that Anakin had to cover his ears.

This was especially disturbing when you considered the fact that Anakin didn't own any bells.

"I don't believe in this!" Anakin shouted, not that it did any good. When the bells finally ceased, that was only to make way for the sound of chains clanking. The clanking became louder and louder and louder until it finally sounded like it was coming from right outside his bedroom door.

"I don't believe in this!" Anakin repeated, but once again it didn't do any good. The instant he said that, a ghostly figure materialized, entering right through the locked bedroom door – a figure that looked exactly like his old partner, Lando Calrissian.

"You know something? You really suck at suspense."

I said to ignore me, Anakin! As I was saying, the ghostly figure that looked like Lando was surrounded by a bluish light and it was dragging along what seemed like miles of heavy chains.

Anakin dropped his food on the floor and hid behind the back of his chair, panting in fear. After a few minutes of hiding, he slowly peeked out, trembling the entire time. "Wh-who are you?"

"That's not a very good way to greet a ghost," said the figure. "I mean, come on, since I'm dead, you should be asking me who I _was_, don't you agree?"

"All right, who _were_ you?" said Anakin, still trembling.

"In life I was your partner, Lando Calrissian."

Anakin had already guessed this, but he didn't want to offend the ghost by assuming that he knew its identity without asking first. He stood up and looked into the ghost's eyes, which weren't blinking.

"What? Are you saying I've got to keep my eyes open for this whole scene?"

Yes Lando, you're a ghost. Ghosts don't blink.

"Well you can't make me dry out my eyes – that's impossible. Besides, didn't Obi-Wan's ghost blink?"

That's different – you're supposed to be a _scary _ghost.

"No way I'm doing that. Look here, I'm blinking! I'm blinking!"

Okay, okay, the ghost DID blink. Happy now?

"That depends. How much are you paying me for this part?"

_Any-way,_ the ghost blinked, but Anakin kept looking into its eyes.

"How come you keep calling me _it?_"

All right, Anakin kept looking into _his _eyes. Just let me get on with this.

"What do you want with me?" Anakin asked.

"Much."

"Uh . . . okay," said Anakin. "Uh . . . can you sit down?"

"Yes – why the hell wouldn't I be able to sit down?" said Lando.

Anakin shrugged. "Well, if you're a ghost, wouldn't your butt just sink right through the chair or something?"

"Hey," said Lando, "didn't you see Obi-Wan's ghost sit down on a log in Return of the Jedi?"

"Well the narrator just said you were different from Obi-Wan's ghost."

"I'll _prove _it to you!" said Lando. He dragged his chains over to the chair across from Anakin and promptly sat down. "There, happy now?"

Anakin just kept right on staring at him.

"You don't believe in me, do you?" Lando said after a moment.

"Of course not," said Anakin.

"Even though I'm sitting right here in front of you," said Lando. "Are you really so pigheaded that you doubt your own senses?"

"Your senses can lie to you," Anakin argued. "You're probably just a bit of bad bantha meat or a gulp of sour blue milk. Hembug, I tell you, Hembug!"

No no NO! For the last time, it's HUMBUG!! HUMBUG!! HUMBUG!!!!

"Yeah Anakin, it _is _humbug."

You stay out of this, Lando.

Anyway, Lando suddenly leapt to his feet and screamed so loudly that the room vibrated. Anakin once again hid behind his chair.

"So are you gonna tell me _that _was just your dinner?" Lando said. "I can do it again, you know. Maybe this time I'll knock the pictures off your wall."

"All right, all right!" said Anakin, throwing his hands up as he sat back down. "You're the ghost of Lando, I get it, but what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to warn you of the terrible fate that awaits you after you die," said Lando. He held up his chained arms. "You see this? It's the chain I forged when I was alive. Every time I did something selfish or didn't help someone when I had the opportunity, I made the chain longer and longer."

"I see," said Anakin. "That's interesting."

"Interesting?" Lando exclaimed. "I'm in eternal torment and all you can say is that it's interesting?? What if I told you that you wear such a chain yourself?"

Anakin shrugged. "Well I don't see how it can be worse than getting all your limbs cut off and your body burned up."

Anakin, stay in character please.

"Your chain was just as long and heavy as this one seven years ago," Lando continued. "And you've added on to it since."

"Well what have _I _done to build a chain like that??"

Lando gave Anakin a disbelieving look. "Why don't you try looking at the way you behave every single day and answer that question for yourself?"

"I'm a businessman, Lando," Anakin protested. "So were you. Businessmen make money – there's no shame in that."

"Yes there _is," _Lando said firmly, shaking his chains in Anakin's face. "By focusing on money, I lost track of what was really important. Now it's too late for me to make amends – but it's not too late for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Tonight, you'll have a chance to escape my fate," said Lando. "You will be haunted by three spirits."

Anakin gulped over and over and over. Truth be told, he still hoped that Lando was just his dinner, but he wouldn't say so out loud for fear that the ghost would scream again. "I don't think I want that," he said.

"Well it's your only chance, take it or leave it," said Lando.

Anakin was trembling again. "Well, I could probably get used to wandering around in chains after a while."

"I can't _believe _what I'm hearing!" Lando shouted. "I've been dead for seven freaking years – do I look used to it??" He got up and headed for the door. "In case you change your mind, the first ghost is coming at one o'clock."

"Can't they all come at once?" asked Anakin. "Then it would be over with."

"No," said Lando, turning back to look at his partner. "If past, present, and future all came at once, the spacetime continuum would collapse and the universe would implode. Besides, then this story would be much shorter. So as I was saying, the first spirit comes at one, the second one comes the next night at two, and the third one comes the next night on the final stroke of midnight." He raised his chained hand to wave goodbye. "By the way, don't hand your friends over to the Empire – that will _really _add on to your chain."

With that, he vanished.


	3. Chapter 3

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

AN: Thanks for reviewing!

Chapter 3

Somehow Anakin managed to fall asleep that night. Don't ask me why, since most of us would probably be on the edge of our seats all night waiting for the foretold ghosts. Maybe it was because he had once again managed to convince himself that he had hallucinated about Lando due to indigestion. It was pretty stupid to think that, but Anakin was very stubborn.

Anakin was sound asleep, not even dreaming about anyone close to him dying. Of course, he didn't _have _anyone close to him, so that might have helped.

But then his alarm went off.

His eyes popped open. He couldn't remember setting his alarm, and he _certainly _couldn't remember setting his alarm to go off in the middle of the night. After giving a big yawn, he sleepily rolled over to see what time it was.

One o'clock in the morning, exactly.

It was then when Lando's visitation came back to him, along with the promise that a ghost would appear at one o'clock. He blinked hard, trying to see if there was anything unusual in his room, but after a full two seconds, he concluded that there was nothing.

"I knew it," he said. "Two seconds after one and no ghosts – that proves that it was indigestion."

But no sooner had he spoken than the entire room filled up with a strange, blinding light. It was so bright that he had to cover his eyes so he wouldn't go blind.

"Your eyes, open," an unfamiliar raspy voice said. "Too long have they been closed."

Anakin slowly peeled his fingers off his eyes, one by one, and found that the light, while still very bright, was at least tolerable now. He still didn't see any ghost, though.

"Hello?" he asked hesitantly. "Anyone there?"

"Down here, look."

Anakin obeyed the voice and saw that it was coming from a small green creature with pointed ears that stuck out on either side of his wrinkled head. Although he leaned on a wooden cane, he seemed to be the source of all the light.

"So _you're _the first spirit?" Anakin exclaimed.

"That I am," said the creature. "The Ghost of Christmas Past, I am, hmmm."

"What?" said Anakin. "This is a joke, isn't it? I mean, you're so _tiny._"

"Judge me by my size, do you?" the ghost said sharply, poking Anakin's forehead with his cane. "Get up you must. Long journey we have ahead of us, hmm."

"Are you going to be lit up the entire time?" Anakin grumbled.

"Hmm? So soon you would be to put out the light I give?" The ghost gave a hoarse laugh. "Heh heh heh! Come come, to the window now, to the window." He turned around and hobbled towards the window, which opened by itself and let in a cold breeze. "Come come, follow follow."

"Are you _serious?_" Anakin shouted, leaping out of bed. "Is this just a ploy to get me to jump out the window and die?"

The ghost broke out laughing again. "Heh heh heh heh heh! Come, mortal. Only a touch of my hand you need. Hmm, yes, a touch of my hand, and uplifted you will be."

"You expect me to buy that?"

"If prefer to walk in chains for eternity you do, then my guest you can be. Otherwise, my hand touch now."

It took Anakin a moment to decipher exactly what the ghost said, and another moment to decide whether it was safer to jump out the window or risk suffering Lando's fate eventually (and of course, he still wasn't entirely certain that Lando hadn't been a hallucination). Finally, possibly against his better judgement, he walked up to the ghost and touched his little hand, which was rough and wrinkled.

"Good good," said the ghost. "Now off we go." He squeezed Anakin's hand and leaped out the window before Anakin would protest.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Anakin cried, closing his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that he was flying through the air.

"Too late to stop, it is," was all the ghost said. He proceeded to ignore it when Anakin threw up in mid-air.

"All right, all right. You know, you're really embarrassing me here."

Come on, Anakin. Gross humor really sells.

"I thought you were too sophisticated a narrator for that."

Sophisticated? So you think this is supposed to be _sophisticated_? That's a good one.

"Okay, can we just get on with it?"

You know, if you didn't keep interrupting me, there wouldn't be any need to "get on with it." Anyway, sorry about that, readers. The ghost flew Anakin back in time, until Anakin could feel that he was somewhere very, very familiar.

"Naboo!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes and finding that yes, he was flying over the snowy surface of the planet Naboo. Before long they landed, right next to a building Anakin knew very, very well.

"My old school!" he exclaimed. "I was a boy here . . . hey, wait a minute, wait a minute! If you've really seen out movies as often as you claim, then you know I was a boy on _Tatooine,_ not Naboo."

That's a very strange comment coming from you, Anakin. I thought you hated Tatooine and loved Naboo.

"Still, won't this confuse people?"

Well if you _really _want it the other way, we can go to Tatooine.

"No, I didn't say _that_!"

Then _please _try not to interrupt me for a few paragraphs, okay?

"Mmm," said the ghost. "Remember this place do you?"

"Of course!" said Anakin, staring up at the snow-decked building with the domed roof. "I could go through this area blindfolded."

As soon as he spoke, he noticed a line of speeders driving through the school's snowy courtyard, all full of laughing parents and children going home for Christmas.

"My friends!" Anakin shouted with glee. "Wald! Kitster!"

"Mmm, shadows of your past, these are," said the ghost. "See and hear us they cannot. Like a life-size holofilm this is."

Anakin kept staring at the speeders. "They're going home for Christmas, aren't they?"

"Home they are going," said the ghost. "Empty, the school will soon be. Well, empty except for one child." He gestured towards the door with his cane. "Go in, shall we?"

"That depends," said Anakin. "Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"In that case, yes, let's go in."

They went in by going through the wall, which brought the nausea back to Anakin's head and made him feel like throwing up again, but he didn't actually do so because the narrator knew that he would interrupt her again if she made him throw up a second time.

"Thank you."

And even though the narrator appreciated that Anakin was being grateful for once, she ignored him because she didn't feel like interrupting the story for the umpteenth time.

"Humph, see if I thank you again."

As I said, the narrator was ignoring Anakin. He and the ghost were in the largest classroom, where a small boy with a mop of blonde hair was sitting at one of the desks. Anakin stopped in his tracks, immediately realizing who the boy was.

"Why did you not go home for Christmas?" the ghost asked. "Hmm?"

Anakin gulped. "My father didn't like me."

"Mmm? But no father you have. Conceived by the midichlorians you are."

"Yeah, but the narrator seems to be making this an alternate universe thing that's firmly based on Scrooge's past, so now I have a father."

And the narrator is still ignoring the characters talking about her. Anakin stared at his young self for a long time, feeling himself wanting to cry as he remembered all those Christmases spent alone.

"See another Christmas, shall we?" the ghost asked.

"Yes!" Anakin said desperately, and just like that the boy in front of him changed into a teenager, still all alone at Christmas, but then there were running footsteps coming from the hall.

"Ahsoka . . ." Anakin whispered.

In burst a young Torgruta girl with the widest smile you could ever see. "Ani!" she yelled, running up to the teenage Anakin and wrapping him in a big hug.

"Oh Ani," she murmured. "My dear brother."

"All right, hold it, hold it!"

What is it this time, Anakin?

"Do you HONESTLY expect anyone to believe that Ahsoka is my sister??"

Hey, there aren't many female characters in your movies and she seemed like a good choice for the role. You know, she's the right age, and you and she certainly act a lot like siblings.

"She's a different _species!" _

So?

"It's just pretty creepy."

Look, who's the casting director here? I've already had to switch Leia and Han's roles, and if I keep switching roles around I'll go crazy. Would you rather if _Padme _played your sister?

"Ewww, all right, have Ahsoka play her."

Thank you. Anyway, after the younger Anakin and his sister hugged for a long time, Ahsoka pulled out and said, "Ani, I've come to bring you home."

"What??" young Anakin exclaimed. "Home??"

"Yes Ani, home," said Ahsoka. "Dad's softened up quite a bit since you last saw him, so much so that he actually said yes when I asked him if you could come home."

The younger Anakin was gasping so much that he had to sit back down. "I can't believe it, Snips."

"Believe it, Ani," said Ahsoka, taking her brother's hand. "We're going to have Christmas together. And if Dad goes back to being an old grump, it'll be too late to send you back."

Meanwhile, the older Anakin was having to choke back tears as he watched.

"Die young, your sister did," the ghost said suddenly, "but children she had."

"Only one child," Anakin said dismally.

"Mmm, yes," said the ghost. "Your nephew Luke, but like dirt you treat him, hmm."

"Die young?? WAIT A MINUTE!!"

Oh great. Ahsoka, you can't see or hear them, remember?

"So let me see if I've got this straight. My character DIES?"

Yes, that's how the story goes. Scrooge's sister dies young and that's why he resents his nephew – because he reminds Scrooge too much of his dead sister.

"Well that's just _peachy._ They're already probably gonna kill me off in Clone Wars – so now you want to kill me off too?? Am I _ever _gonna get a part where I don't die??"

"Hey Snips, calm down."

"You stay out of this, Skyguy!"

Look Ahsoka, it's not my fault that Dickens wrote it that way. If you want to complain about your character dying, take it up with him.

"I believe I will! Where can I find him?"

Uh . . . well he's kinda dead.

"GRRRRR!!"

Um, maybe this would be a good time for a chapter break. We'll be right back . . . maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

AN: SORRY I haven't been around for so long. I got really sick. Really REALLY sick. As in, swine flu sick, and I felt too rotten to do anything for a long time. Hopefully you can still enjoy this even though the Christmas season is technically over.

Chapter 4

Hi everyone, we're back, and I think things are a bit more settled down now.

"I still don't know _why _you think anyone's going to buy that Ahsoka is Luke's mother. You must have a really sick mind."

"Mmm, agree with Skywalker I do. Sick mind you have."

Come on guys, we're not even in that scene anymore. Lighten up.

"Us not being in that scene anymore doesn't change the fact that you have a sick mind."

Shut UP, Anakin!

"I warn you, I'm not gonna let go of this. If stuck-up storytellers like you can't let me do anything other than die . . ."

Ignoring you, Ahsoka.

"Well can't I at _least _get more than one scene?"

No.

"Oh come on, I'm sure I can liven up Fezziwig's party a little."

Look, if I let you be in the party scene, will you shut up and stop complaining about your character dying?

"Hmmm . . . maybe."

That'll do. You're in the scene, now shut up.

The ghost led Anakin away from the school and into yet another Christmas at yet another familiar place. They were still on Naboo, but this time they were in the capital city of Theed, on a snowy Christmas Eve night, standing in front of a quaint building that gave an almost magical glow through its windows.

"Know this place, do you?" said the ghost.

Anakin was grinning. "Of course, this was where I had my first job."

"Mmm, yes," said the ghost, pointing his cane at the door. "Another Christmas this is, one of your happiest ones. Go in, we shall, and see the gaiety, yes."

They went in, passing through the wall again, but Anakin didn't get dizzy this time because he was ready for it. They emerged into a brightly-lit room that was normally used as an office, but you would never know it if you looked at it now. All the chairs and desks had been pushed aside to make room for dancing. Garlands and holly hung all over the walls, a band was set up in the corner, and a long table full of food stood against the east wall. And everywhere, people were dancing.

"Look!" Anakin exclaimed, pointing at a man jigging away in the center of the room. "There's Qui-Gon, my old boss! Qui-Gon Jinn, he's alive again!"

"Not quite," said the ghost. "Remember, shadows these are."

Anakin was hardly listening – he was too busy watching Qui-Gon kick his feet in the air every time he jumped. He leaped from side to side with a goofy grin on his face, grabbing every woman's hand and kissing it, even if the said women were married.

"Excuse me, may I talk to you for a moment?"

Oh no Qui-Gon, not you too!

"I don't mean to complain, but Jedi don't usually dance, and they certainly don't flirt with married women."

Jedi don't usually gamble, either. Look, it's just a role, okay? You're not a Jedi here – you're a jolly business manager. Does that make you feel better?

"I'm merely saying that I've been in enough trouble with the Jedi Council already."

I don't care! You're dead anyway, so just dance!

"Fine."

Ah, fine, what a nice word to hear. Anakin, maybe you should learn that word.

"Grrr . . ."

Anyway, everyone at the party was dancing and dancing and having an excellent time. Soon Anakin caught sight of his sister, who for some weird reason insisted on being in this scene. She was dancing with Chewbacca, Qui-Gon's other apprentice, and he was lifting her up with every other step, making her giggle.

"Hold on. PLEASE tell me this doesn't mean what I think it means."

Well Ani, since you already think I have a sick mind, I'll let you infer what you want from this. I repeat, Anakin's sister was dancing with Chewbacca and they were having an awesome time. They danced and danced and danced until they ran into the teenage Anakin, who was sitting in a corner.

"Ani," Ahsoka said to her brother, "come on, you're missing all the fun."

Chewie roared out an agreement that Anakin was missing all the fun.

The young Anakin shrugged. "I just don't feel much like dancing, Snips."

"Oh _really?"_ said Ahsoka, nudging her brother with her elbow. "Is that true, or are you just _waiting _for someone?"

"What? Who would I be waiting for?"

Well the answer to that question walked in just a few seconds later. A beautiful young woman with long, curly brown hair entered the room, and as soon as she appeared, both the Anakin of the past and the Anakin of the present stopped and stared, unable to look at anything else.

"Padme," the older Anakin whispered.

"Mmm?" said the ghost. "Know her, do you?"

Anakin could hardly breathe. "Yes . . . yes, I know her."

The younger Anakin was running up to Padme and taking her coat, revealing that she was wearing an incredibly elaborate dress with a red bodice and a green skirt that was trimmed with what appeared to be an endless amount of pearls. It looked like she wouldn't be able to move in that dress, yet alone dance, but somehow she managed it. Once the younger Anakin hung up her coat, they took hands and began dancing.

"I _knew _you were waiting for someone," Ahsoka teased as Anakin and Padme danced past her. "Ani and Padme sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N . . ."

"Shut _up,_ Snips!" said the young Anakin.

Padme laughed gently. "Come on, Ani, let your sister have her fun." She then dragged him over to the mistletoe and gave him a long kiss.

"Mmm, in love with this woman you were," said the ghost.

Anakin could only stare at his younger self dancing with Padme.

"Take that as a yes, I will," said the ghost. "So why is it that married to her you are not?"

Anakin gulped.

"Ah yes," the ghost continued. "Another Christmas there was with her. Take you to that Christmas, I will."

"No, no, please don't," said Anakin.

"Take you there, I must," said the ghost.

"NO! NO! DON'T!" Anakin screamed like a little baby, but the ghost wouldn't listen to him.

"Like a little baby? Do you ALWAYS have to insult me?"

Anakin, I'm ignoring you again. The ghost took Anakin to a Christmas Day on Coruscant, where Anakin had recently set up his moneylending firm. An older Anakin who was closer to his current age was sitting at his desk, with Padme standing in front of him.

"Question, why do all the important events in my life take place on Christmas?"

Because that's how Dickens wrote it. Take it up with the dead guy if you have problems with it. As I was saying, Padme looked very upset at Anakin, but the Anakin of the past was ignoring her.

"How long are we going to have to wait?" Padme urged.

"Wait?" the younger Anakin said, not looking up from his work. "Wait for what?"

"Uh, our _wedding?"_ said Padme.

"Oh, that," said Anakin. "Well we certainly can't afford to get married now."

Padme slammed her hand on the desk. "You've been saying that for _years. _Look around you – you have your own business now."

"And I have to share half the profits with Lando," said Anakin. "That cuts my income in half."

"So?" said Padme.

"_So_ if we were to get married now, we'd have to scrape to get by. Money is important, Padme. The most important thing in the world."

Padme ground her teeth and shook her head. "I don't believe what I'm hearing. You've changed."

Anakin finally looked up at her. "Yes, I've changed. I've gotten smarter – but I haven't changed towards _you._"

"Prove it," said Padme. "We got engaged long ago, back before you became obsessed with money. Tell me, if we weren't already engaged, would you ask me to marry you now, keeping in mind that I'm not rich?"

"What are you talking about? You _are_ rich."

"Not in _this _universe. Come on, stay in character here."

Thank you for saying that, Padme.

Anakin stared at her for a long time. "So . . . you think I wouldn't?"

Padme growled. "See? If you really loved me, you wouldn't have hesitated like that."

Anakin threw up his hands. "What _is _it with women and always needing their lovers to prove they love them?"

Padme shook her head. "I don't know you anymore. Anakin, you're breaking my heart. You're going down a path I can't follow."

"What?"

"Nevermind." Padme pulled the engagement ring off her finger and threw it down on Anakin's desk. "I release you, Ani. You're no longer worth my time." With that, she turned around and stomped out of the room, walking right through the older Anakin.

"No!" screamed present day Anakin. "No Padme, don't leave! Please!"

"Mm, hear you she cannot," said the ghost. "Already happened, this has. Do nothing about it, we can."

"Oh shut UP!" shouted Anakin. "Will you just LEAVE ME ALONE already??"

"Fine," said the ghost. "Too long this chapter is, anyway." With that, he vanished, sending Anakin back to his room.

"Good riddance," said Anakin. He climbed back into bed and immediately went to sleep.

AN: I can't promise that another chapter will be up quickly, since I'm still not feeling too good, but I'll do my best.


	5. Chapter 5

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

AN: Merry Christmas in July! Sorry it took me so long to update – it's hard to get in a Christmas mood when Christmas is over.

Chapter 5

An hour later, Anakin heard his alarm go off a second time, even though he once again didn't set it. He growled as he sat up in bed, seeing that it was now two in the morning – the time when Lando had said the second ghost would show up.

"Well Lando, where is this second ghost?" he said out loud. "I guess you were playing with me, weren't you?"

"No, he wasn't," said a booming voice from the other room.

"Oh, great," Anakin muttered.

"Come in," the booming voice continued, "and know me better!"

"Do I have a choice?" said Anakin.

"No," said the voice. "If you don't come in here, then I'll just come in there."

"Fine, then I'm coming," grumbled Anakin. He stumbled out of bed and headed for his hallway, only to be blinded once again by a bright light.

"Are all you spirits going to glow like this?" Anakin exclaimed, covering his eyes.

"Glow?" said the voice. "What are you talking about? I don't glow. You must be talking about the lights on the Christmas tree. I'll turned them down for you."

"I don't have a Christmas tree," Anakin said.

"You do now," said the voice. "Take a look."

Anakin slowly removed his hands from his eyes and gasped when he saw the room. The walls were decked with layers of garlands, the floor was covered with expensive-looking food, and a gigantic Christmas tree stood in the corner.

"How much did all this cost?" Anakin exclaimed.

"Oh Anakin, you're so wrapped up in cost that you can't appreciate the beauty of anything," said the voice. Anakin finally turned to see where the voice was coming from and saw that it belonged to a man wearing a green robe and a wreath of holly on his head. He had a short, reddish brown beard, and his face looked a lot like Ewan McGregor.

"What? What kind of description is _that?_"

Well Obi-Wan, I just wanted to make sure everyone knew you were playing the Ghost of Christmas Present.

"Well surely you could have thought of a more subtle way to do so. Naming an actor just shows laziness and a lack of imagination."

Look, if you want to leave a review, click on the review button and let me get on with the story.

"Who the hell are you?" Anakin asked.

The man gave a loud chuckle. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Have you ever seen the likes of me before?"

"Well, I have this strange feeling that in another life you're my teacher or something, but realistically speaking, no."

"I'm not surprised," said the ghost. "Many people like you have forgotten me, but by the time we're through, you will know me."

Anakin sighed. "Well at least you're not tiny and green. Let's get on with it."

"Take my robe," said the ghost, extending his arm.

Anakin did so, and just like that they were flying out the window, once again making Anakin sick to his stomach. "Do we ALWAYS have to do this?" he complained.

"Sorry," said the ghost. "I can't hear you."

As they flew around in the snow, the sky suddenly turned from night to day, forcing Anakin to squint in the bright sunlight. "What's going on?" he said.

"It's morning now," said the ghost. "Christmas Morning. Have a look."

Anakin looked down and saw the festivities many feet below, though he couldn't really make anything specific out since everyone below him looked like ants. "Can we, uh, actually _go _somewhere?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Of course," said the ghost. "We'll be going somewhere that you should find _quite _amusing."

With that, they dropped down as if they were on a roller coaster. Anakin wanted to throw up again, but he didn't because the kind narrator wasn't going to embarrass him like that twice. However, since he couldn't throw up, that meant he felt so nauseous that he couldn't stand it. He would do _anything _to be able to throw up, but the narrator wouldn't let him.

"You . . . are . . . evil . . ."

I know Ani, I know.

They finally landed in front of a quaint little apartment from which Anakin could hear children's laughter. "Where are we?" he asked.

"What?" said the ghost. "You mean to say you've never been to visit your clerk?"

"What? This is _Leia's _apartment?" Anakin exclaimed.

"Indeed," said the ghost. "And she shares it with her husband and six children." He extended his arm towards the door. "Let's go in, shall we?"

They swooped in through the wall, and before Anakin knew what was happening, they were standing in Leia's living room, where children were running in and out, occasionally darting right through him.

"What the . . ." Anakin exclaimed when he felt himself giving way to the kids' bodies.

"Never mind them, Anakin," said the ghost. "They can't see you, so you're not bothering them. Have a look around."

Anakin did as he was told and saw virtually nothing. There was a dull sofa against one wall and a Christmas tree with cheap decorations in a corner, but nothing else. "Why does she furnish her living room so poorly?" he asked.

"Well why do you _think?"_ said the ghost. "She doesn't get a very large paycheck, does she? It certainly wouldn't surprise me if she can't afford anything beyond the bare essentials." He pointed towards the kitchen doorway. "Come on, let's meet her hubby, shall we?"

Ah, now we FINALLY get to meet Leia's husband. Her awesome, awesome, AWESOME husband. Seriously, Leia's husband was awesome. So, so, so awesome . . .

"All right, they get it!"

Well excuuuuse me, Leia. Are you jealous of your husband or something?

"Jealous? Me? What's there in Han to be jealous about?"

Should I give you a list?

"Grrr . . ."

Anyway, as I was saying, Leia's extremely awesome husband was in the kitchen, hurrying up to finish Christmas dinner in time. "C'mon," he muttered, staring at the oven where the pie was baking. "I ain't got all day. You're supposed to be ready by Christmas dinner, ya know."

"Daddy, are you talking to the oven again?"

Han quickly looked around, seeing that one of his daughters was giggling at him. "No, sweetheart," he said, "I was talking to the pie."

"Oh," said the girl, "I'll tell Mommy when she gets home."

"Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute."

Oh great. What is it, Han?

"What's this kid's name?"

How should I know?

"Well you're the one narratin' this story – shouldn't you know the kids' names?"

Of course not. No one can keep track of all the Cratchit kids. In fact, no one even _cares _about any of them except Tiny Tim.

"Are you just sayin' that as an excuse for lazy storytellin'? Cause I think a dad should know his own daughter's name."

Oh come on, you've only got this one little conversation with her.

"Lazy storyteller, lazy storyteller . . ."

Just shut up and let's get on with the story, shall we? Now where was I? Oh yeah, Han was talking to the pie. Han often talked to the food when he was nervous. This may seem embarrassing, but Han's sheer awesomeness kept him from getting embarrassed. The kids were trying to help him, but most of the time they just ended up spilling stuff, which made Christmas dinner all the more difficult.

And unfortunately, he couldn't ask Leia for help, since she was at church with their youngest child. Tiny Tim.

"Wait, _church?_ Are you _serious?_ A geek like you should know we don't go to church in our galaxy, least not your version of church."

All _right _Han, sheesh. Okay, Leia and Tiny Tim were, uh, at the Jedi Temple, uh, participating in Christmas Day meditation, is that better?

"You really haven't thought this out much, have you?"

Forget it, let's just skip to the part where they get home, okay?

Leia returned home with Tiny Tim riding on her shoulder. "Merry Christmas everyone!" she shouted.

"Merry Christmas!" shouted the overly-adorable Tiny Tim, waving with his overly-cute hand. All the other kids ran up and gave their mother a big group hug, which meant she had to wait a good five minutes before she could put Tiny Tim down. It strained her back tremendously.

"Ow . . . ow . . ." she muttered when she finally got to put him down.

"Come on, Tim!" said one of Tiny Tim's random siblings. "Come watch us set the table!"

The kids ran toward the dining room and Tiny Tim followed them on his iconic crutch. Only then was Han able to greet his wife.

"So how was church – I mean Christmas meditation?" he asked.

"Boring," said Leia.

"Did Tim behave?"

"Of course he did. After all, he's the most perfect kid in the universe. He doesn't have a single flaw – he never even gets angry. It's annoying, really, how he's so perfect all the time."

What? Leia, why are you ad-libbing?

"I'm just saying what everyone secretly thinks about Tiny Tim. Come on, you and everyone else knows that he is too obnoxiously perfect."

How can you POSSIBLY say that about your own SON? He's SICK, he could be DYING. He's the prime instrument in melting Scrooge's heart. That means no one can EVER criticize him.

"Well I just did."

That's it! Just for that, I'm ending this chapter!

"Are you sure it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you haven't updated in months?"

AAAAUUUGHH!


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thanks for reviewing and SORRY I neglected this fic (again). HOPEFULLY it will be finished before NEXT Christmas.

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

Chapter 6

All right, the chaos has been settled. Again. Hopefully for more than a few seconds this time. Now Leia and Han appreciate their son much better and they love him best of all. Isn't that _right,_ guys?

"He's a little brat . . ."

What was THAT, Han?

"Uh, I mean he's a wonderful child and we all love him! Seriously. Really. Okay . . . can you point the blaster away from us now?"

Only if you both promise to get on with the story with NO FURTHER INTERRUPTIONS.

"Sheesh, someone needs the Christmas spirit. All right, Han and I promise to get on with the story with no further interruptions."

"We do?"

"YES Han, we do."

Fine. I'll untie you now and we'll skip ahead to Christmas dinner.

All the food was finally ready and now the Solos were sitting down to Christmas dinner. Anakin couldn't stop thinking about how small their feast was and how it could have been much bigger if he only paid Leia a bit more. But then again, he thought, if he paid Leia more there was no guarantee that she's spend the extra money on Christmas dinner. In fact, she'd probably spoil the kids with toys and then the Christmas dinner would be no bigger.

Well no matter, the family was laughing together and they were all having such a good time enjoying each other's company, they were full of the Christmas spirit, yadda, yadda, yadda, until Leia raised her glass and stood up.

"I propose a toast," she said.

"Great," said Han. "I want mine with jelly."

"Not that kind of toast," Leia said, rolling her eyes and wondering why the narrator stuck such a bad pun in her story. "I mean that we should drink to the health of someone."

"Oh . . . okay," said Han, a little disappointed that he wasn't going to get toast with jelly. "So whose health are we gonna drink to - mine?"

"Er . . . no," said Leia. "I know this sounds insane, but I was thinking of drinking to . . . my boss."

"WHAT?" Han and all the children (except perfect little Tiny Tim, of course) exclaimed.

"Yeah yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous," said Leia, "but seeing as how he pays me and all, that makes him the founder of the feast."

"Founder of the feast INDEED!" Han snapped, slamming down his glass. "Wish he were here, I'd give 'im a blasterbolt to feast on."

"Han!" Leia shouted, glaring at her husband. "What kind of role modeling is that for the kids?"

"Like I care," Han sulked. "You know that guy doesn't deserve anyone drinkin' to his health - you know it more than anyone."

"Yeah?" said Leia. "Well I want to drink to his health anyway because . . . uh, why _do_ I want to drink to his health again? Help me out, narrator."

Uh, you want to drink to his health because . . . it's in the book.

"Okay. Hear that Han, it's in the book, so we have to drink to his health."

Han ground his teeth. "Fine, fine." He raised his glass. "Long life to Anakin Skywalker, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, whatever."

"To Anakin Skywalker," the others repeated.

"All right," said Leia, raising her glass again, "now that that's over with, a Merry Christmas to us all!"

"Merry Christmas to us all!" the others repeated with more enthusiasm this time.

"The Force bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim the last of all, and the narrator hoped that she wouldn't get in trouble for making him say that.

Meanwhile Anakin was staring at Tiny Tim and falling in love with him (of course). "Spirit," he said hesitantly, "will the boy live?"

The ghost stared at Tiny Tim as if trying to read something from him. "Hmmm, I see a vacant seat at this table and a crutch without an owner. If this remains unaltered, the child will die."

"NO!" Anakin cried. "NO! NO! PLEASE DON'T LET THIS HAPPEN!"

"Sheesh," said the ghost. "I said if these shadows remain UNALTERED. See, Leia can't afford the proper medical care for Tiny Tim, which is why he's dying. Now if she had MORE MONEY, she could pay his doctor bills."

Anakin looked at the ghost. "What are you saying exactly?"

The ghost slapped his own forehead. "Do I have to spell it out for you? I just spelled it out for you!"

Anakin continued to look blankly at him.

"Nevermind," the ghost sighed. "Come on, we've got another place to visit. Take my robe."

Anakin touched the ghost's robe and all of a sudden they were in another dining room, this one far fancier. Candles were lit in all the windows, garlands were strung around the fireplace, and a large Christmas tress stood proudly in the corner. The room was full of people, chatting, laughing, drinking, and eating.

"Where are we?" asked Anakin, trying to ignore how hungry he was getting at the smell of the food.

"Look over there," said the ghost, gesturing towards the piano.

Anakin obeyed – and there was his nephew Luke, being his usual jolly self as he leaned against the piano, at which a tan-skinned, black-haired young woman was playing.

"Oh _great," _moaned Anakin. "My nephew's dinner party."

"Yes indeed," said the ghost. "The one you turned down an invitation to."

Anakin folded his arms. "So where's the red-headed chick he married?"

Red-headed chick? Wait a minute, WHAT red-headed chick?

"You know, that red-headed chick Luke married in the books, Mara something or other."

WHAT? Anakin, you should know that I have a No Expanded Universe policy in all my fanfiction stories.

"Then how come the Solo kids appear in your stories frequently?"

Well . . . cause I like Leia and Han being parents and the kids were cute when they were young and I figure why reinvent the wheel . . .

"But they're not gonna grow up to be screwed up and/or Sith and/or dead young?"

Of COURSE not.

"So you're just picking and choosing what you want to use and sticking your fingers in your ears for the rest of it? That's pretty whimpy."

Look Ani, who's narrating this story, you or me?

"Fine, fine. But as long as we're on the subject, since my nephew is married in the book, who's playing Luke's wife if it's not that red-headed chick?"

Uh . . . well I was thinking of using Rianna, my original character that I've used in other fanfics.

"You mean your Mary Sue?"

She's NOT a Mary Sue!

"Of COURSE she is. You know, she's Force-sensitive, she has a troubled past, and she ends up paired with Luke – how much more Sue-ish can you get?"

Look . . . look . . . she's not a Sue, okay. Let's just get on with this.

"You DO realize that claiming she's not a Sue only makes her even more of a Sue, right?"

SHUT UP ANAKIN! As I was SAYING, Luke was leaning against the piano and his wife Rianna (who is totally NOT a Mary Sue) was playing Christmas songs. Luke was smiling as always (why doesn't smiling so much ever hurt his cheeks), and he stroked his wife's head every so-often while she played.

"You play _beautifully," _Luke purred. "If only my uncle could hear it – that would help him not to be so grouchy all the time."

"Please don't mention your uncle," Rianna groaned as she stopped playing. "Personally, I'm glad he's not here. We don't need such an asshole on Christmas."

"Who are you calling an asshole?" Anakin exclaimed.

The ghost grinned. "Anakin, Anakin, Anakin, she can't hear you. What are you hoping to accomplish by shouting at her?"

Anakin growled. "Well as soon as she CAN hear me I'll come over to their house and . . ."

"Shh," said the ghost, pointing to Luke and his wife, who were still conversing.

"Well personally, I think he's hilarious," said Luke.

"What?" all the guests exclaimed at once.

"You heard me," said Luke. "He has all this money, but he doesn't spend it – and what good is money if you don't spend it?"

"It's called _investing, _nephew," Anakin growled.

"And even though he calls it _investing_," Luke continued, "he's still just waiting for his money to get bigger.

"Well, you have a point there," Rianna said as she pushed the piano bench out and stood up rather slowly.

"So you see, he's hilarious," said Luke.

The guests all laughed, but Anakin hardly heard them. He was instead staring at Rianna's stomach, which was unnaturally large.

"Is she . . . _pregnant?" _he exclaimed.

The ghost smirked. "Well why would it matter to you if she is? It's not like you would _want _a great niece or nephew, right?"

"Well at least he could have had the dignity to tell me . . . hey, wait a minute!"

Oh great, what is it now, Anakin?

"Fred's wife isn't pregnant in the book. She's not even pregnant in the movie versions! What the hell possessed you to make her pregnant here?"

Uh . . .

"Oh, you don't have some crack this time?"

Uh . . .

"Are you using this story as a psychological outlet for your desire to have a baby and your fear that you'll never be able to have one?"

Uh . . .

"Well you know what that means – YOUR RIANNA IS A MARY SUE!"

Anakin, two things: Shut. Up.

"A little touchy, aren't we?"

You shut up too, Obi-Wan. Now back to the story, after Rianna (who is NOT a Mary Sue no matter what these morons are saying) got up from the piano, Luke suddenly raised his glass, waving it around so he could point it at all his guests.

"As long as we're on the subject," Luke said, giving his trademark huge smile, "I would like to propose a toast."

"Great," said Rianna. "I would like strawberry jelly on mine."

"Not that kind of toast," Luke said with a groan, wondering why the narrator inserted that bad pun into the story twice. "I think we should drink to my uncle's health, just for fun, you know."

"Why is everyone toasting me today?" Anakin whispered. "I don't even like toast."

The ghost rolled his eyes. "Anakin, that pun got old the first time."

"To Uncle Anakin," Luke was saying, raising his glass over his head. "May he continue to make us laugh."

Rianna smirked. _"I _would certainly drink to that if I wasn't pregnant, but unfortunately, I am. Now where's the dessert table?"

"Oh no," said Luke, grabbing his wife's hand. "You're not getting out of it that easily – you can toast him with water."

Anakin turned to the ghost. "Are water toasts less effective than alcohol toasts?"

The ghost looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Tell me you're not _seriously_ worried about that."

"Well, if they're going to toast me, they should do it properly, shouldn't they?"

"To Uncle Anakin!" Luke was shouting, after which the guests repeating, "To Uncle Anakin," though most of them were growling it.

"Anyway, we're almost out of time," said the ghost. "Take my robe."

Anakin did so, and suddenly they were back on the streets of Coruscant, under the black of night. He looked at the ghost and noticed that instead of Ewan McGregor, he now looked like Alec Guinness.

"Doing _that _again, are we?"

Ignoring you, Obi-Wan.

"Spirit, do you grow old?" Anakin asked.

"Yes," said the ghost. "As a matter of fact, I'm almost dead."

Anakin's eyes widened. "Wait a second, just how short _is_ your life?"

The ghost glanced at his wrist as if checking his watch, even though he didn't have a watch to check, which made the gesture pointless. "Very short indeed. As a matter of fact, it ends at midnight."

As if on cue, Anakin heard the clock tower begin bonging out the chimes for midnight.

"Clock tower? Where the hell did you get a clock tower on Coruscant?"

And I'm definitely ignoring you, Anakin. As I was saying, as soon as the clock started chiming, the ghost began to fade away. With each bong, he faded away a little more.

"I get the feeling you're hurrying through this."

WELL Ani, this fic hasn't been updated in over a year, so maybe I want to get this chapter done with. Now, the ghost faded away a little bit more with each bong, until finally with the twelfth bong, he disappeared all together.

And a mysterious hooded figure stood in his place.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: GOD, why am I always sick at Christmas time? Anyway, thanks for reviewing! Hope you had a good Christmas! Oh, and I'm sure you'll be able to tell this if you've seen the special, but part of this chapter is inspired by Robot Chicken Star Wars: Episode II. Yeah, a parody crediting another parody, that's weird.

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

Chapter 7

Anakin gulped as he stared at the hooded figure. At first he couldn't see any sign of a face, but as the figure moved closer he could make out a wrinkled, evil face with wide, evil eyes and a twisted, evil smile. In fact, everything about the face was evil.

"Are you . . ." Anakin gulped, wishing he were anywhere else. "Are you the . . . Ghost of Christmas Future?"

"Yeeees, Skywalker, I am."

HOLD IT! Palpatine, what is the meaning of this?

"The meaning of what, my foolish narrator?"

Didn't you read the book? The Ghost of Christmas Future DOES NOT TALK!

"And why should that concern me?"

Uh, because you're PLAYING the Ghost of Christmas Future?

"This book was written a long time ago. It is high time that someone spiced it up."

The Ghost of Christmas Future DOESN'T TALK. It's as sacred as Scrooge calling Christmas a humbug. If you talk, you ruin the whole story.

"If you will not let me do this my way, you will be DESTROYED!"

AAAH! Okay . . . ow . . . okay . . . . OW! . . . okay . . . you can talk . . . just STOP THE LIGHTENING!

"You make a very wise decision, foolish narrator."

All right, all right, back to the story (how many times have I had to say this?). Anakin was trembling so hard that his knees were banging into each other. "Gh-ghost of the Future," he stuttered, "I'm more scared of you than of any other spirit I've seen."

"And you should be," said the ghost in his menacing, raspy voice. "After all, I'm the one who will show you what grim fate awaits you – I am most looking forward to it." He extended his arm. "Shall we?"

Anakin glared at the hand as if it were about to crush him (and it very well might have). "This won't be pretty, will it?"

The ghost cackled. "Would I be here if it were?" He wiggled his gnarled fingers in a gesture meant to be inviting. "Now come on, you don't want to miss your future, do you?"

Anakin sighed. "Fine, let's get this over with." He took the spirit's hand, which was cold as ice.

"Cold as ice? Isn't that the most cliché simile in the world? I thought you majored in Creative Writing!"

That's none of your business, Ani.

"I mean, doesn't writing class teach you to avoid clichés like the plague?"

You just used a cliché yourself.

"Yeah, well _I'm _not a writing major, so I have an excuse."

AUGH, will you ever grow up? As I was SAYING before Anakin interrupted me for the umpteenth time, the ghost led him into a swirling black vortex that led them into the future. This vortex, by the way, was absolutely not inspired by the one in The Muppet Christmas Carol.

"So now, you shamelessly rip off much better versions of this story? You're pathetic."

I'm not even going to acknowledge Ani's interruption this time. Anyway, Anakin and the ghost emerged from the vortex to find a group of people walking down the Coruscant streets chit-chatting. Anakin knew all three of them – in fact, he did business with them quite frequently.

"Observe," said the ghost, pointing his gnarled finger towards them. "Dooku, Gunray, and Maul. Fellow businessmen who share your love of money."

"I know that," said Anakin. "And by the way, loving money ISN'T as bad as you ghosts are making it out to be."

The ghost smirked. "Listen to them, won't you."

Anakin listened, though he was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Well I don't know much about it either way," Dooku was saying in his deep, rich, sexy voice, "I only know he's dead."

"Mmm," Gunray said in his voice that was nowhere near as sexy as Dooku's, "when did he die?"

"Last night, I believe," Dooku said, his voice incredibly sexy. "Not that I particularly care, of course."

"At last the bastard is dead," Maul hissed. "At last we have revenge." Then for some reason, he decided to stop talking altogether and just listen to the other two even though he had said only one line.

"Well," Gunray said, "what's he done with his money? Who got it?"

Dooku smirked. "He didn't leave it to _me, _that's all I know." His voice was so rich and sexy, yes indeed.

"All right, this is getting really creepy."

What NOW, Anakin?

"Do you have the hots for Count Dooku or something?"

No, just his voice.

"That's scary."

Oh come on, how can anyone NOT love that deep, dignified voice? It's almost as sexy as Han's voice. Almost. Oooooh . . . Han's voice . . .

"I'm going to walk away now."

No you can't Ani, you're in a scene, remember? Now where was I? Oh, right.

"It's likely to be a rather small funeral," Dooku continued, his sexy voice making the narrator want to swoon. "If there _is _a funeral at all – upon my word I can't think of a soul who would be fool enough to go to it."

"Well _I _would go," said Gunray, "if there was a _lunch _provided."

He and Dooku started laughing together as the group walked away. Since Maul was on a vow of silence again, he didn't join in the laughter, but his eerie smile said that he enjoyed the joke – maybe. It was rather hard to tell with him, actually.

Anakin stared after the trio even after they disappeared from view. "Who are they talking about?" he asked.

The ghost gave his maniacal grin. "You honestly don't know?"

"Of course not!" snapped Anakin. "That's why I'm asking! Why the hell did you bring me here to overhear them gossiping about some random dead guy? What the hell does that have to do with me?"

The ghost cackled. "Oh, this is _delicious. _Well come, perhaps another stop will help shed some light on the subject."

He grabbed Anakin's hand and suddenly they were in a dark room, lit up by only a single dim lamp on a table. Next to the table there sat a Hutt, propped up on fancy pillows. People were gathered up in front of the Hutt, holding bundles of different sizes. The Hutt, of course, didn't speak English, but thanks to the miracle of text, the narrator could write out his lines in English, much like subtitles or a protocol droid, so she wouldn't have to figure out how to spell those Huttese words.

"So," the Hutt said in Huttese, "what goods have you brought today?"

A man with his head wrapped up in toilet paper stepped forward. "Well come on, come on, everyone," he said so fast that he didn't seem to be taking any breaths. "We got no secrets right, so what are we waiting for unless we're waiting for Dengar to go first? Hey maybe Dengar should go first, cause you know he's Dengar, and he's the one with the smallest bundle, smallest but hey, maybe it's got the most valuable stuff, you never know till you open it, right? So whaddaya say, Old Jabba? Should Dengar go first? Should he? Should he?"

Old Jabba gave his villainous laugh. "Ho ho ho, ha ha ha, go ahead Dengar, show us all what you have."

"With pleasure, with pleasure," Dengar said, unwrapping his bundle. "You know they laughed at me for choosing a toilet theme at Bounty Hunter School. Toilet paper on the head, toilet shaped ship, but now my toilet theme has paid off, cause look what I got!" He let the cloth fall off the bundle and grandly held up his item. "The bastard's toilet brush!"

"EWWW!" the other visitors gasped.

"Now come on everyone, it's as clean as if you just bought it at a store," said Dengar. "The guy was so stingy he probably never used it once, that's right, cause if he used it he'd have to eventually spend money to buy a new one, that's how pigheaded he was. So anyway Old Jabba, what's your price for this lovely like-new toilet brush?"

Old Jabba tapped his slimy fingers on his slimy mouth a few times. "Ten credits," he finally said.

"Sold!" said Dengar, tossing the toilet brush at Old Jabba. "Pleasure doin' business with you Old Jabba, say you know what, I bet I could slip by the bastard's house again today and grab his toilet, after all, he ain't gonna be using it no more!"

Old Jabba gave his wicked laugh again as he handed the toilet brush to a Twi'lek slave girl to put away. "So," he boomed, (still in Huttese, don't forget), "who will be next?"

"I will," said a woman dressed in a purple bodysuit, removing a light veil from her face as she placed her bundle on the floor.

"Ah, Zam," said Old Jabba. "You never fail to deliver."

"I certainly DID deliver," said Zam, reaching into her bundle. "Look what all I have. It's a shame he didn't die a few years ago – Force knows I could've used the profits then." She pulled a cooking pot out of her bundle. "Look at this. Like new just like his toilet brush. Wouldn't surprise me if he never cooked anything in his life."

"That looks just like my cooking pot," Anakin whispered.

"And look here," said Zam, pulling out an old-fashioned mantle clock. "His mantle clock. Pretty ironic to take it since his time has run out, am I right?"

"That looks just like my clock," said Anakin.

"There's more," said Zam, pulling out more items and tossing them to Old Jabba. "I've got his comlink, his tablecloth, his plates, his superhero holobooks, his soap, and his statue of William Shatner."

"Those all look like _my _things," Anakin said again.

"So what do you say, Old Jabba?" Zam continued. "What'll you pay for all this stuff?"

Old Jabba pondered for a moment before saying, "One hundred credits."

"Ye-e-ES!" Zam exclaimed. "See everyone, THIS is how you make money!"

"Not so fast!" said the third member of the group. "Old Jabba hasn't seen what Big Bad BOBA got. You guys'll be running home crying once you see what the Boba man got."

"Ho ho ho, ha ha ha," Old Jabba laughed again. "All right Boba, we're all anxious to see."

"You might wanna step back," said Boba, waving his hands at the others, "cause this could blind you with its sheer AWESOMENESS. So here it is, get ready to be BLOWN AWAY." He reached into his bundle and pulled out the item, waving it around with gusto. "His BLANKETS. Uh-huh, uh-huh, told ya Boba could deliver!"

"His _blankets?" _Zam said, wrinkling her nose. "You mean you took them off his bed with him _lying there dead?"_

"I did!" Boba said, jumping a few times and spreading his arms. "Boba Fett exposed the poor bastard to the cold – not that he'll be _feelin' _it of course."

"That's low even for _our _line of work," said Zam.

"Well if you think _that's _low, wait'll you see what ELSE the Big Bad Boba did!" He reached into his bundle and pulled out a fancy suit. "Take a lookie at this baby. Best suit he had, probably the only time he ever spent money on good clothes. They were gonna waste it, but I got it before they could!"

"Waste it?" said Zam.

Boba wiggled the suit in front of her. "Some idiot put it on him to be _buried _in, but the Boba man took it off! He's gonna be buried _naked _now!"

"Ho ho ho, ha ha ha!" Old Jabba laughed uproariously. "Boba, you are my kind of scum. Fearless and inventive. I'll give you two hundred credits for your goods."

"All RIGHT!" Boba leapt up in the air and shook his fist. "See, I told ya the Boba man was the best!"

Zam rolled her eyes. "Fitting that he'll be buried naked. He scared everyone away when he was alive, but now that he's dead, he's a gold mine for us."

They all began laughing while Anakin turned towards the ghost. "All right, I get it," he said. "This dead person had the same sort of things I have and they got stolen. You're trying to tell me that I need better security for my house if I don't want my stuff stolen too."

The ghost rolled his eyes. "You're _really_ slow to catch on, aren't you?"

Anakin took a deep breath. "Look, please, show me some tenderness."

The ghost rolled his eyes again. "Fine, fine, but first let's take a chapter break."

"What? Why?"

"First of all, it's the day after Christmas already, and second, I think our foolish narrator is stumped on how to write the Tiny-Tim-Is-Dead scene without making it awkward."

Uh, don't listen to him – we're ONLY taking a chapter break because it's the day after Christmas. Really.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Augh, Christmas season is over, but hopefully you'll still enjoy this. Thanks to the reviewers!

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

Chapter 8

Welcome back. When we last left Anakin, he had been witness to future events involving the death of a mysterious man and how the death brought either indifference or glee to others. Disturbed by what he saw, he asked the ghost to show him some tenderness, which is where this chapter picks up.

"Don't they already know all that?"

Shut up Anakin, I'm narrating.

"You're stalling, that's what you're doing."

AUGH! All right, all right, let's get this scene over with. The ghost took Anakin back to Leia's apartment, but instead of being festive and happy, this time it was unusually quiet. Anakin found Han on the sofa, sitting with the kids in front of the fire. His head was in his hands and he was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Daddy," one of his random sons said, touching his arm, "please don't cry."

Han patted his son's head, but he couldn't stop crying.

"Daddy please," said one of his random daughters.

Just then the door slid open and in walked Leia, her eyes red because she had been crying too. Without a word one of the random children scooted over so she could sit down next to her husband. They wrapped their arms around each other and cried together for several minutes.

"What's going on?" Anakin said. "Why are they crying?"

The ghost cackled. "You don't know? You SERIOUSLY can't figure out why?"

Finally Leia wiped her eyes and took a deep breath so she could speak. "I saw my old boss's nephew today – you know, Luke."

"Her OLD boss?" Anakin exclaimed. "What, did I finally fire her or something?"

"Just listen," said the ghost, giving his evil grin.

"What did he say?" asked Han.

"Well, he greeted me in his usual cheery manner," said Leia. "In fact, he looked _really _happy, like he had just inherited a bunch of money or something. Anyway, he saw that I was looking sad and asked me what was wrong. So I told him about Tiny Tim, and he said he was so so sorry for us." She swallowed a sob. "He gave me his address and said he wants us to come visit him and to come to him if we ever need anything. It seemed like he knew our boy and understood what we were going through."

Anakin scratched his head. "Where IS Tiny Tim anyway?"

The ghost rolled his eyes. "Just how stupid are you? Tiny Tim isn't here, the whole family is crying, where do you THINK he is?"

"We _will _go see him," Leia was saying. "I'm sure you all will love him. Maybe a new friendship will come out of Tiny Tim's death."

"DEATH?" Anakin exclaimed.

"Ah, finally you catch on!" the ghost said with a snicker.

"So Tiny Tim's DEAD?" Anakin yelled. "PLEASE! DON'T LET IT BE SO!"

The ghost cackled. "Come on, we have one more place to visit."

So now that the awkward scene was out of the way, the ghost grabbed Anakin's hand and instantly they were in a graveyard. Snow was blowing all around, stinging Anakin's face and causing him to pull his robe around him in a vain attempt to warm himself.

"Where are we?" Anakin said, shivering. "Why the hell did you bring me here?"

The ghost cackled yet again. "Don't you wish to know who the mysterious dead man is?"

"Well . . . yeah . . . I guess . . . but I still don't see what he has to do with me."

Now the ghost cackled so loudly that he had to clutch his stomach. "Well why don't you go see for yourself?" He pointed to a particular stone that was covered in snow.

Anakin gulped, though he wasn't quite sure why. Why would he be afraid of finding out who this random dead person was?

"Go on," said the ghost.

Anakin slowly headed for the stone, but then he stopped and looked back at the ghost. "Spirit," he said, "are these the shadows of things that _will _happen, or are they the shadows of things that _might _happen?"

The ghost gave his eerie grin yet again. "Oh Skywalker, you are_ so _much fun." He wiggled his finger towards the stone. "Come on, take a look, you know you want to."

Anakin turned back around and started heading for the stone again, very very slowly, one step at a time, pausing between steps.

"Will you get on with it?"

You don't have any patience at all, do you Ani? Fine, have it your way. Anakin RAN up to the stone and hurried up to brush the snow off of it, revealing the name of the dead man.

_ANAKIN SKYWALKER._

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Anakin yelled, arching his back and howling to the heavens.

"Yeessss," the ghost hissed.

"PLEASE, spirit!" Anakin begging, grabbing the ghost's cloak. "PLEASE don't let this really happen!"

The spirit began cackling louder than Anakin had heard it cackle before. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha! You chose to waste your life, and now you pay the price!"

With that, the ghost shot lightening out of his hands, knocking Anakin onto the stone, where he landed with a loud thud. "No . . ." he whimpered, ". . . spirit . . . please . . ."

But the ghost only cackled louder. He shot more lightening out of his fingers, sending electricity through Anakin's entire body and boy, did it ever hurt. It hurt, hurt, HURT!

"NO!" Anakin screamed again. "NO . . . please spirit . . . I'm not the man I was . . . I've changed . . . please . . . stop . . . give me another chance . . ."

"HA HA HA HA HA!" the ghost bellowed, shooting more lightening at Anakin, which was beyond painful.

"PLEASE SPIRIT!"

Then all of a sudden, Anakin was back in his room, but he was so frightened that he thought he was still in the graveyard, so he continued whimpering for a good five minutes before he finally opened his eyes.

"What? Are you saying I'm such a coward that I wouldn't even notice that I'm in my own bedroom?"

Anakin, if you interrupt me one more time, I swear I'll make you put on a clown outfit and dance the polka. Now AS I WAS SAYING, once Anakin looked up, his eyes brightened. He blinked, making sure he wasn't dreaming, but once he realized that he was really truly home he sprang out of bed and began jumping for joy.

"I'm home!" he exclaimed. "I'm home, I'm home, I'M HOME!" He started skipping around like a little child, but then he stopped when he realized something. "But wait – how long was I gone? Maybe I was gone for years . . . maybe I was gone for CENTURIES! Oh Force, I've gotta find out how long I was gone! I don't know why I'm talking to myself, but I've gotta find out!"

He opened his window and leaned forward, gazing over the streets of Coruscant, until he spotted a young Gungan walking aimlessly down the street.

"You there!" he called. "Gungan!"

The Gungan tripped a little as he looked up. "Who, meesa?"

"Yes, yousa – I mean you," said Anakin. "What day is it?"

"Hmm?" said the Gungan with a clueless expression on his face.

"What day is it?" Anakin repeated.

"Today? Itsa Christmas Day! Yousa missin yousa calendar or somtin?"

"Christmas Day!" Anakin yelled. "Christmas Day, I didn't miss it! The spirits did it all in one night, can you believe it?"

"Uh, yousa needin to be taken some medication or sometin?" the Gungan asked. "Cause meesa knowin where the doctor is."

"No, I don't need medication," said Anakin. "What I need is _you."_

"Uh . . ." said the Gungan, his large jaw beginning to drop, "meesa _really _tinkin you should be seein a doctor."

"No, no!" Anakin insisted. "Listen, I need your help. Do you know if the butcher's shop has sold the prize bantha?"

"Yousa wanna buy a BANTHA? Howsa many people yousa feedin?"

"Well in the original book it was a turkey, but they don't exist in the Star Wars universe, so I'm getting a bantha instead."

"But deysa so HUGE!"

"Nevermind that, the narrator hasn't thought this story through very well, so just go buy the bantha for me."

"But how meesa sposed to carry it?" the Gungan asked.

"I don't know – you figure it out!" called Anakin. "Now go buy it and bring it back here and I'll give you five credits!"

"Oh, meesa liken money!" the Gungan exclaimed. "Meesa goin!"

And so, motivated by money, the Gungan went running to the butcher's shop. Now stay tuned, for the conclusion is just around the corner.

"What? You're breaking the story AGAIN?"

Ignoring you, Anakin.

"How long is it doing to take you to finish this stupid story?"

IGNORING YOU, ANAKIN!


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Merry Christmas! Thanks for reading and reviewing as always. Well, I said this fic would be finished before next Christmas, and it's _technically _not Christmas yet, so I kept my word.

"A Star Wars Christmas Carol"

By EsmeAmelia

Chapter 9

It took the Gungan a good half hour before he got back to Anakin's place, since he was dragging a two-ton dead bantha by its leg. "Ooooh," he groaned as he dragged the bantha up to Anakin's door, "meesa tinkin meesa getting hernia from this."

Anakin met him at the front door, dressed in his finest suit, the one that Boba Fett would have stolen if that future had come to pass. "Ah, finally," he said.

The Gungan was panting so hard that he looked like he was about to faint. "Oh . . . oh . . . meesa here . . . now where meesa money?"

"Patience," said Anakin. "First we need to get this bantha to my clerk's place.

"WHAT? Are yousa NUSTY?"

"Now come on," said Anakin, "you want the money, don't you?"

"Yeah, meesa want the money," the Gungan muttered.

"Good," said Anakin, "follow me."

So the, er, reformed Anakin led the Gungan down the streets of Coruscant, greeting people and wishing them a Merry Christmas all the way, and it wasn't long before they ran into a pair of familiar droids.

"Oh dear!" C-3PO exclaimed. "Run R2, it's Master Skywalker!"

"3PO! R2!" Anakin exclaimed. "So nice to see you, my friends!"

R2 beeped in confusion while 3PO wailed, "Oh my! This is simply dreadful! Master Anakin has lost his mind! R2, we must get him to the insane asylum before he destroys us!"

R2 then rolled up to Anakin, beeping loudly, and rammed him in the butt.

"OW!" Anakin exclaimed. "Hey, stop that!"

"Come along, Master Anakin," said 3PO, "you are quite unwell, we must get you to a mental institution."

"No, wait," said Anakin. "I'm not insane."

"Heesa good now!" the Gungan called from behind Anakin, still dragging the bantha's leg, huffing and puffing. "Heesa gonna given me money!"

"Oh," said 3PO, "well in that case, Merry Christmas, Master Skywalker, I am so very glad to see that you have changed!"

"Thank you," said Anakin. "Now, if you'll let me, I'd like to make a late donation to your cause. Put me down for . . ." He began whispering where he thought 3PO's auditory sensors were, though they might not be in the place where our ears are. Hmm, where are his auditory sensors anyway?

Uh, well anyway, 3PO squealed with joy when he heard Anakin's offer. "Oh my goodness, no one has _ever_ donated such a large sum before! R2, we're rich!"

"What?" asked Anakin.

"Uh, I mean, the _poor _are rich!" 3PO quickly said. "R2 and I _certainly _weren't collecting money for ourselves under the guise of giving it to charity! Now come along R2, let's go to the bank – I mean, the poor!"

And with that, they hobbled and rolled away, not giving Anakin a chance to ask any more questions, but he just shrugged and motioned for the Gungan to keep following him.

When they finally reached Leia's apartment, the Gungan looked like his heart was ready to give out, but he kept on going for the sake of money. He didn't even complain when Anakin motioned for him to hide both himself and the bantha before he knocked on the door. By the way, this was totally not inspired by The Muppet Christmas Carol.

"I'll say it again, you're pathetic."

Two words Anakin: CLOWN SUIT! Anyway . . .

"LEIA!" Anakin shouted.

Leia opened the door a crack and peeked out. "Boss? What the HELL are you doing here?"

"What does it LOOK like I'm doing here?" Anakin growled. "You weren't at work this morning, so I'm here to give you what you deserve!"

"What I DESERVE?" Leia exclaimed. "Not that you've noticed, but it's CHRISTMAS, which means I'm entitled to the day off. Oh, and not that I'd expect you to remember it, but you GAVE me the day off yesterday."

"WHAT?" shouted Anakin. "Why the HELL would I do such a thing? Now listen here Leia, you've given me trouble for the last time!"

With that, Han suddenly burst through the door (again, totally not inspired by The Muppet Christmas Carol). "So you're the famous Anakin Skywalker? Well I don't care WHO the hell you think you are - you've got NO right to burst in here on Christmas Day!" He shook his fist at Leia's boss. "I'm gonna give you three seconds to get your ass outta here, got that? One . . . two . . ."

Leia put her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Han, let me handle this." She glared at her boss. "I don't care who you think you are - you have NO right to burst in here on Christmas Day!"

"Copycat," Han muttered.

Anakin growled at them both. "Now look Leia, I've put up with this long enough. You leave me with no choice but to . . ." He paused for several seconds in order to get a dramatic effect, but he actually ended up looking like he forgot what he was going to say.

"Well?" said Leia. "Get on with it!"

Anakin's jaw fell open. "You ruined my dramatic mood!" he whined. "How am I supposed to do the big surprise now?"

"What surprise?" said Leia. "I already know you're firing me."

"Firing you?" Anakin exclaimed.

"FIRING her?" Han exclaimed, immediately darting forward and snarling at his wife's boss. "Look _sir_, we got kids, and lots of them, and not that a rich guy like you would notice, but the economy's _really _shitty right now. You wanna make a bunch of kids starve to death? Huh? Oh wait, you probably DO wanna make kids starve, nevermind."

"Sheesh!" said Anakin. "Look, I WAS gonna raise her salary and give you guys food and stuff, but since you don't seem to want that, maybe I WILL fire her!"

Leia and Han both just stared at him for a moment, trying to process that information.

"Trying to process the information? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

It means you can't believe what your boss is saying, Leia.

"It sounded like it meant that we couldn't understand what he said. How stupid do you think we are?"

Sheesh Leia, for someone who begged for this part, you're sure complaining about it a lot!

"Me? _You're _the one making everyone act stupid here!"

It's called _comedy,_ Leia. People HAVE to act stupid in a comedy - otherwise no one would laugh!

"No one's laughing _anyway. _In fact, given that you haven't updated this story in almost a year, I doubt anyone's even _reading_ this anymore."

Why you . . .

"Um, hey, if you want this to be the last chapter, maybe you should get on with the story instead of getting into yet another argument with a character?"

Well Ani, for once you're right. As I was saying, Leia and Han were so shocked and overjoyed that they didn't know what to say. When they were finally able to speak they started laughing. They laughed and laughed and laughed for several minutes until they ran out of breath.

"I'm serious!" said Anakin. "I'm going to raise your salary and pay your son's doctor bills! Thanks to me, your son's not gonna die! What do you say to that?"

Leia and Han just kept laughing. "So what else?" Leia said between chortles. "I guess you also have a bantha to supply us with food for the next month?"

"As a matter of fact, I do!"

That finally shut the couple up. Their eyes widened as Anakin motioned for the Gungan to drag the bantha up to them.

"Oooh," the Gungan groaned, "meesa back hurt, meesa shoulders hurt, meesa _everything _hurt!"

"Good job!" said Anakin, slapping a bag of money into the Gungan's hand. "Here's your pay for a job well done."

The Gungan panted loudly as he took the money, and then he fainted on top of the bantha.

"Well, enjoy," said Anakin.

"Wait, aren't you gonna stay here and help us with this thing?" said Leia, picking up the bantha's leg.

"Nope," said Anakin. "I've got to go have Christmas dinner with my nephew, but I'll come over and see you sometime soon. Expect a big fat Christmas bonus in your next paycheck!"

So Anakin left the Solos to deal with the huge bantha and the Gungan who had fainted on top of it. He sang Christmas carols all the way to his nephew Luke's house - in fact, he was still in the middle of singing when he knocked on the door. Luke was greeted by a loud, "Fa la la la la, la la la LAAAAAAA!" when he answered the door.

"What the hell?" Luke exclaimed.

"Merry CHRISTMAS, nephew!" shouted Anakin, throwing his arms around Luke. "I've come for Christmas dinner!"

For a while Luke couldn't speak because Anakin's hug was squishing his lungs. It wasn't until Anakin finally let go of him that he was able to react.

"What?" he gasped. "Who are you, and what did you do with my uncle?"

Anakin just laughed and laughed and laughed like a drunk person. "The person your uncle once was is dead! That's right, dead, dead, dead! And he's never coming back!"

"You MURDERED my uncle?"

"What's going on?" Luke's not-Mary-Sue wife asked from the living room.

"Rianna, get in here!" Luke called. "Some crazy guy who looks like my uncle murdered my real uncle!"

Rianna quickly darted into the foyer, gripping her pregnant stomach. "What the hell?"

Anakin just kept on laughing as if it were a big joke. "So this is your lovely wife. I've always wanted to meet her." He took her hand and kissed it in a rather creepy manner. "And you're expecting a baby? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I didn't think my _uncle_ would care, quite frankly," said Luke. "And by the way, since you seem to like interrupting the narrator, maybe you could be the one to tell her that this is getting really soulless really fast?"

Soulless? What the hell do you mean by that?

"Well you're having me think that my uncle's been _murdered, _for one thing. For another thing this entire story has been completely devoid of Christmas spirit. It's just been you arguing with the characters nonstop and butchering one of the most beloved Christmas stories of all time!"

Look Luke, what do _you _know about Christmas spirit? They don't even _celebrate _Christmas in your universe!

"Oh yeah? Then how come we had an official holiday special _and _a Christmas album?"

Doesn't count. They both sucked.

"Guys? I think we've gone off on a tangent here."

Yes Ani, we have. Now, as I was saying, Anakin had dinner with Luke and his wife and they all had a wonderful time. By the time the day was through, Luke barely remembered what his uncle had been like before - all he wanted to remember was the benevolent person his uncle had become.

"Wait, so I have amnesia now?"

Shut up, Luke. As I was saying (yet again), Luke and Rianna were so happy that they even said they would name their baby Anakin if it was a boy and Annie if it were a girl.

"That was a short dinner."

Yeah Ani, well this story's been going for _years_ and I'm sick of it being unfinished and it's almost Christmas _yet again_ so I'm wrapping it up.

"Still, you only devote _one sentence _to me having dinner with Luke when all this other random nonsense got paragraphs and paragraphs?"

Yes. Now shut up before I make good on the clown suit threat that people probably don't even remember I made.

Well, you all know the rest of the story. Anakin is better than his word and he becomes as good a friend as the good old planet ever knew, or any good old planet in the good old galaxy. Tiny Tim lives and Anakin becomes like a second father, however that works. Seems Han and Leia should be at least a _bit _uncomfortable with a guy who was formerly the nastiest guy in town suddenly taking such a big interest in their son, but whatever. Everyone lives happily ever after. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

"Wait, you're seriously going to end it like _that?_ After you made me act stupid over and over, you're not even going to give me a decent ending?"

Shut it, Ani. Episode 7 is a reality now and I've got a ton of fanfics to get out of my system before they officially become AUs.

"Episode 7? Hey, am I going to be in it?"

Doubt it. You're dead, remember?

"Hey, that didn't stop Obi-Wan!"

Fine, talk to someone about appearing as a ghost and giving Luke or Luke's kids or whoever Jedi advice or whatever.

"Am I in any of the other fics you're working on, or are they just your usual Han-obsessed gibberish?"

Gibberish? GIBBERISH?

"Yeah, gibberish. I swear, I've never seen anyone so obsessed with a character as you are with Solo. Even _my _fangirls aren't so crazy."

Watch it Ani, need I remind you that you _froze _my Han?

"See, you call him _your _Han. Need I say more?"

Ani . . .

"And you stare at your action figures of him."

Ani . . .

"And you repeat his name to yourself just because you like how it sounds."

Hey, at least I wouldn't turn to the dark side if a maniac told me that was the only way to save him!

"What? HEY, people LOVE me when I'm dark side!"

Ani, I _swear_ if you keep this up I'll make you a sparkly vampire in my next fic.

"You wouldn't DARE . . ."

I'm the one with the laptop here. If you're nice to me I MIGHT consider making you a sagely ghost in this big fic idea I have.

"So what? It will take you a million years to finish it anyway. Episode 7, 8, 9, and anything after that will all probably be old news before you're done."

GO. AWAY. ANI. Or I'll turn you into a sparklepire RIGHT NOW!

"Okay, okay, I'm going!"

All right, we're done. I'm going to go write something where the fourth-wall barriers are locked and no characters are allowed to talk to the author. I've never been so happy to say this:

THE END


End file.
